White
by Fhal
Summary: White was definitely a lucky colour for the blue swordsmen. One-shot. Ike x Marth


White

Pairings: Ike x Marth

Standard disclaimers here. Fanfiction in all its unbeta'd glory below.

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It had been a fierce battle. A free for all match, now down to the final two combatants after Luigi flew by the camera. The two remaining breathed heavily, taking a short rest on opposite sides of the tiny Pirate ship. It was going to be tough as they were both down to their last stock.

Marth was the first to move. He was dressed in the white variation of his usual outfit, and Ike barely dodged his attack since the white attire blended with the clouds in the background. The mercenary stepped back to keep his distance from the agile prince.

"God, Marth. You just HAD to be wearing white."

"I had a feeling white was my lucky colour today." The royal smiled as a brief 'tch' came from the other's mouth. Flitting forward once more, he tried to catch Ike before he could try any of his heavy attacks. Unfortunately, Ike was familiar with Marth's strategies and blocked the combo easily. As Marth lowered his sword in hopes of stepping back to recuperate, Ike saw an opening.

"Oh no you don't!"

Sharp pain seized the monarch's body. Marth didn't think Ike could attack so fast, but he soon found himself flying off the edge of the ship and into the water. The weather was changing as the skies darkened into a greyish mist.

_If I get caught in the storm I'll lose the match!_ The prince struggled underwater, trying to rise to the surface, but the heavy armour and now wetted cape only worked to his disadvantage.

The storm would hit soon, and as his last chance to get to Ike, Marth unbuckled his armour and tore off his cape, letting them sink as he swam upward.

A shadow appeared in the water, signalling to Ike that Marth was approaching.

"Sorry, Marth, but this match is mine." Charging up to give Marth one final blow, he froze when the royal jumped out from the ocean.

Really, Marth just HAD to be wearing white.

Marth, clueless as to why Ike was still charging his attack, took this chance to push Ike into the menacing tornado as the storm finally reached the ship.

"**GAME!"**

---

Marth stomped his way to the change rooms. The announcer had declared him the winner while he rushed off the stage. He was angry with a certain someone and had to find him to vent a little. Or a lot. The door opened a bit too hard and Ike, who was cleaning off Ragnell on the bench, turned his attention to the other man standing at the doorway.

"...Hey Marth, good game." The voice was a bit shaky as he put the sword aside and Marth knew something wasn't right.

"Ike, why did you let me win?"

"W-what?"

"The last stock. You could've easily knocked me off the stage."

"I-I just didn't pay as much attention as I should've."

"Why's that? Were you underestimating me?"

"NO! It's just... I lost focus for a bit."

"Ike, I know how serious you are when it comes to battle; that couldn't have been the whole truth."

"..."

"So you were letting me win?"

"No... that's not it.... Ugh..." Ike lowered his face into his palm. Marth was mad and he knew it. At least if he told Marth what he wanted to hear, it might make the situation a little better. "Marth, just. Look at your clothes." The other man turned his attention to his own attire. The clothes were still damp from the swim he involuntarily had earlier.

"They're wet; what about them-"

"Your nipples are sticking out."

The prince's arms quickly flew to the front of his chest. The red tint was evident on his face.

"I-Ike! You're not... supposed to look there!"

"It was kind of hard not to when you jumped out of the water and they were right in my face."

An awkward silence followed. Marth was fidgeting, trying to cover up essential parts of himself while Ike, well, he just watched. The man definitely has to learn some manners.

"I'll talk to you about this later, I'm going to get a change of clothes." As Marth turned his heel to head back to his room, he felt a light tug at the end of his tunic. Ike apparently wanted to keep him in his place.

"You said... white was your lucky colour today?"

"In a sense it was, I suppose. Not so lucky for you, though."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"Is my embarrassment making your day?"

"....Somewhat." The smile he had been hiding finally materialized in his features. When someone as attractive as Marth was standing in front of you with almost see-through clothing, the sight itself was as satisfying as devouring a piece of meat (In Ike's opinion anyways).

"Sadist."

"Please, if I was a sadist I'd be doing this." Without warning, Ike tugged hard on the wet fabric. Marth's attempt to leave had failed like the first as he fell back and landed in Ike's lap. Ike leaned forward and bit Marth's ear, whispering, "I didn't mention it before, but the way your clothes cling to you really show off these _curves_." A hand was placed on Marth's ass, caressing gently to prove his point.

Ike instinctively knew he was doing something right when a light gasp came from Marth's lips, "P-Please don't touch me like that." Marth pushed himself away from the other man, but a strong muscular arm found its way around his waist and restricted any displacement.

"Just living up to the title you gave me." The Altean prince wasn't struggling nor protesting as much as he should have, which meant Ike was free to explore. Marth shut his eyes and bit his lips when he felt the light touch on his skin, the hand making its way up from his rear to his shoulder blade. He wasn't going to admit it out loud, but the mercenary was skilled and seemed to know all of Marth's sensitive spots. Even with damped clothes the heat was too much for him to bear.

Unnoticed by Marth, Ike was attentive and reading his expressions the whole time. He knew it would take a bit of work to get another sound out of the man, who was beginning to draw blood from those moist lips of his. Completely willing to be aggressive, he slipped his hands in front of Marth and removed the stubborn wet fabric that hid the beauty of the prince. _How can you be a swordsman and have skin like this? It should be a sin to have such perfect skin._

Ike's fingers found the pink nub on Marth's chest.... and the royal lost it.

And when Marth loses it, it meant Ike receives an elbow to his ribs.

"F-FUCKING HELL!" Ike let go of the prince and hugged himself dearly to prevent another blow. Marth stood up and backed into the wall, as far away from Ike as possible without leaving the room. Marth breathed heavily and took a few moments to steady himself before he spoke.

"Ike, what's wrong with you!? You can't just start touching people like that!!"

"B-before we get to that... I think you broke my rib."

Marth stared at him in a bewildered fashion. "I did?"

"Ugh...Ow...Sure feels like it."

"Oh. Crap. I-I'm sorry, Ike." At least Marth was kind enough to worry over the man who had been molesting him.

"Can you call first aid for me? I don't think I want to move right now." Ike breathed gently, trying not to worsen his condition.

"S-Sure. I'll get right to it." Adjusting his clothes so he looked more presentable, the monarch reached for the door.

"Hey."

"Yes?" Ike was looking straight at him, the look of pain no longer on his face.

"How about we call it even? Me touching you inappropriately for you... breaking my ribs." Marth actually had to _think_ about this one. In his mind, Ike kind of deserved it for being a pervert. But as a friend, he thought he'd be generous.

"Deal. Now wait while I get help. If anyone asks, you walked into the doorframe."

"Geez Marth, first sadist, now dumbass idiot? Your impression of me isn't great, is it?"

"Kind of lost points when you grabbed my ass."

"Then I blame your ass for being irresistible."

Deciding the conversation had reached its end, Marth turned back to the door.

"Wait."

"Look, Ike, do you want help or not? If so, just shut up and--"

"Don't wear white next time." To Marth's surprise, the phrase was spoken with a serious tone. "Wouldn't want to show off that body to the wrong people if I were you."

"I'll take note of it." Leaving the room at last, Marth ran down the hallway to get the medics. A smirk spread across his face.

He knew _exactly _what colour to wear the next time he had a match with Ike.

---

I've been itching to get this idea out for the longest time. It was meant to be a drabble no more than 500 words, but more ideas came up along the way.

Thank you for bearing with my writing! Don't be afraid to tell me what you think, I'd love to learn of where I can improve!

-Fhal


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